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by ladiesforhades



Category: South Park
Genre: Anger, Angst, Anxiety, Breakups, Early Twenties, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Repression, Self Care, Trauma, falling in love along the way, self love, sibling relationships, thomas and Laura’s divorce, venting fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladiesforhades/pseuds/ladiesforhades
Summary: “I saw that you and Tweek broke up on Facebook.” She doesn’t turn to him and he knows he won’t be given much space to respond. So he remains quiet, halted in front of her door.“Shame. You were good together.” Is her simple input.He wonders why he let himself live like this for so long.And why he wants to continue.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Craig Tucker, Past Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m not happy.” Craig says it while avoiding eye contact. Gaze cast downwards with the inside of his cheek pressed between his teeth. His hands are shaking under the table, they always are. Yet everyone notices and points out the flaw on Tweek. Craig’s more subtlety anxious. Repressed, emotions stuffed down into the confines of his heart. Protected by towering walls and neither escaping or letting anything infiltrate. It’s still there, though. Cracks in defenses. If you look hard enough you can see the gentle quivers.

“Ahh! What! Sorry, sorry! With the coffee?” If he was a lot lighter in complexion he’s sure the flush on his face would be more prevalent. He’d look ash white instead of slightly less tan. He tells himself this, yet he knows Clyde has pointed it out.

_‘Dude are you sick? You look sick!’_

Until the end of time Craig will give his best friend the middle finger and brush it off.

He’s always brushing it off.

“With you. Uh. This.”

Tweek flinches, twitching about. He twists a hand towel he was using to wipe down the table they are seated across from in his grip. Craig focuses on that. The way the towel curls tightly together in the grasp of pale knuckles.

“Um..oh god! So...what? Is it the uhhg! The um. You know…?” Tweek makes a motion with his hand as if that is enough to elaborate what he’s trying to specify on. There is a flare of anger that begins to spark. Craig tries his best to smother it.

Tweeks talking about their more recent endeavors in bed. 

There is a pressure building up between his brows and he wants to drop the conversation. Just pretend he never brought it up. So he tries to.

“Uh. You know what? Nevermind.” Craig begins to stand to push himself away from the table and Tweeks chocolate eyes follow him curiously. Wondering and nervous about the topic at hand.

“You can’t just say that and drop it asshole! You’re not—oh god! Happy! So—Uhg!”

Tweek mimics Craig’s motions and he trails him as he makes way to exit Tweak Bros. The place they so commonly frequent that Craig considers it a sort of dreary second home to his already drab bedroom at his mom's apartment.

“Tell me what you’re not happy about! I can fix it!” Tweek hollers. He’s always talking at the top of his lungs. This isn’t what grates nerves Craig though. It’s the _I can fix it_ part.

It leaves something so raw and uncomfortable inside of him.

“You can’t fucking fix it.” Craig’s going into defense and his voice is becoming slick and tongue slippery as ice. He wraps his arms around himself. He can’t do this. 

“Why not?? I can—Uhg! We fixed it before. We can do it again Craig! We can do it again. I lo—“

“Well I don’t.” Craig cuts him off sharply. It’s cruel, it’s mean. It’s what he’s been holding in for the past three years. And as soon as he says it he realizes he doesn’t want to take it back. His fingers are still curled into the handle of the entrance to the coffee shop.

He hasn’t cried in years. Came close to it. But right now he feels the sting of tears and he holds them back out of fear of being vulnerable. He needs to be the bad guy.

“What…?” It’s like the air around them became sober. As if there was an intoxication or surreality to it that comes with relationships. Craig can hear his heart pumping blood rapidly through his body. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t fucking drop a bomb like that and not talk about it! Agh! Since _when_? We had sex last week. You took me out to City Wok!” 

Craig remembers that.

He remembers working up the energy to climb out of bed, to brush his teeth, to spray on deodorant after taking a sink bath. He remembers hiding his greasy black hair under the confines of his old chullo hat. He remembers sitting in his car for 10 minutes while staring blankly at the door to his mom's apartment and yearning to just go back inside. 

He remembers the sex. Craig had asked a couple of times if maybe he can be on the bottom for once. A brief offhand comment that led to bickering, which led to them trying it.

_I’m never dominated_

It was a stumble in the dark of Tweeks room. Awkward and hesitant fingers coated with lubrication pushing its way into Craig with inexperience. Craig recalls cutting it short. Pulling away .

_Maybe I’m not meant to be on the bottom_.

It’s not the sex that killed the relationship though.

And the more he thinks of that, the more anger begins to fuel the fire. It’s quiet in present time, Craig still has his back turnt and he’s watching the final snowfall before July hits in South Park.

“Can’t you even look at me! Can’t you tell me what’s—“

“No, I fucking can’t Tweek! I can’t answer because I don’t fucking know! I’m done though. I need to be alone so fucking give me space!”

He’s got his hands buried in his hair. He washed it under the faucet of his bathtub today. Lathered it down and didn’t bother to straighten it. So his usually loose waves are messier and have more of a curl to them. He lets out a loud, long suffering sigh.

“I hate you. You know that right? You made me lose control of my fucking emotions. This is the first time I felt anything in three years.”

He shouldn’t say it. Craig knows he shouldn’t yet he beats his hand into the glass door.

“I need to be alone. Leave me alone!” It’s then that he yanks open the exit, and steps out into the slightly warmer than usual air of South Park.

He doesn’t look back as he makes way to his car. Doesn’t bother to look to Tweeks shocked face. His breathing is heavy and he sticks his key into the ignition, twist it in the lock, puts his car into reverse and gets the fuck out of there.

As he gets farther and farther away it feels better and better. Like maybe he made the right fucking decision for once. It’s like after high school all he’s done is make poor choices. To some they seem calculated. The job at jmart to get promoted. To save up money for the apartments he’s looked at since he was a sophomore in highschool. Putting off college so he can look after his mother's new daughter and his newest little sister. Staying close to South Park so he can also have some semblance of a relationship with Tricia when She turns 18 in a few months.

They seems well thought out.

But they were nothing he actually wanted. Outside of the obvious with some things being done for his family, the others were done by a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Tweek.

_We don’t think Tweek is ready yet. We need to make sure you’re both ready. You understand, don’t you?_

Craig said yes at the time. Though his application to Colorado States astronomy program was filled out and ready to send. Essay written. Future plotted. He and Tweek even discussed living on campus together. Tweek studying music theory. They had plans and this was compromising them.

But he said yes.

Because he _loved_ Tweek.

*

Laura Nommel is in the kitchen, working through cleaning the dishes. Craig hangs his keys up and walks past her to where Rieanna Nommel, his baby sister, is seated in front of the TV. Reruns of a chinpokomon are playing, and Craig wants to switch it to the newest installment of Red Racer. Yet he doesn’t. Rhea loves this show. Craig did too at one point.

He sits down next to her and she turns her little head to him, head full of blond curls bouncing in her excitement.

“Brother! Brother!” She squeals. Craig can’t help the smile that forms. It’s closed lipped. But it’s not entirely forced.

“Rhea.” He scoops her up into his lap and arms and lets her warmth transfer to him. She looks sleepy and has a little plush bunny that Butters gave her one time when he visited. It’s seldom Craig and Butters hang out these days. They used to be close through the cosplay community, though.

“I felt it... I felt it. Is summer coming?” She mumbles sleepily as she buries her face into Craig’s chest. He pushes down the blond mess atop her head as he watches the storyline of the rerun they are watching.

“Yeah, it’s coming.”

“Mm…” she says in response. Sleep taking her over. “I like summer…”

It’s quiet after that. No more words outside of the artificial of television. Other noises fill the spaces. The sound of dishes clanking and the gentle inhales and exhales from Rieanna.

Craig bundles her into his arms to put her to bed. It’s a bit later, he headed over to the coffee shop after Tweeks shift. He wants to lay down and rest. He’s been feeling increasingly tired, and after all of that he just wants to escape into the sweet relief of slumber.

He’s closing the distance to his mom and sisters room when she brings it up.

“I saw that you and Tweek broke up on Facebook.” She doesn’t turn to him and he knows he won’t be given much space to respond. So he remains quiet, halted in front of her door.

“Shame. You were good together.” Is her simple input.

Craig’s eyes lower and he feels himself internally sink. Like he’s melting into the floor. 

He waits to see if she has anything more to say yet all Laura does is drain the bucket she uses to soak and wash the dishes in. Craig opens her bedroom door with Rieanna in his hold and lowers her into bed. Opting to lay down next to her on the floor. He looks to the ceiling. The little glow in the dark stars stuck about.

He wonders why he let himself live like this for so long.

And why he wants to continue.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Tweek wants to talk.

Or scream into his voicemails. Craig’s hands are shaking more excessively than usual as he struggles to press his phone off, shoving it into his locker. Right.

So far, he’s got texts from Clyde with an angry face emoji. Bebe texting him to say he made a dick move and a singular text from Token saying:

_If you were unhappy for three years, why lie?_

The inside of his cheek is chewed up with a blister forming. Yet even with the sting Craig just can’t stop. Tongue pressing down and licking at the wound. Taking the already damaged skin and teasing it between his teeth more.

There are ten minutes left before his shift starts. And 4 hours before he gets home to babysit Rieanna for the rest of the night. But he sits stuck in this one moment, resting his head on the cool of metal. There are tears rolling down his cheeks and it’s hot contrasting with cold skin. 

He hasn’t responded to anyone. Deciding to remain quiet. _I’m the bad guy._ Going into this he didn’t care about his image anymore. Over the years he’s progressively been caring less and less what people thought of him. He didn’t care because no one was ever exactly close enough to him for it to matter. Clyde would call him his best friend but Craig remembers frowning at that, feeling a gnawing emptiness at the title. He couldn’t talk to anyone about this. But he thought it was written all over that he just wasn’t happy. He doesn’t know how that wasn’t blatantly obvious to anyone but him.

Yet it dawns on him.

_I told him I hate him._

Does he?

Craig has never felt such intense resentment towards anyone before. He never wanted to. It’s like he never let himself. As if it was shameful to be angry. To feel anything.

_Is it too late to take it back?_

He thought about it. Groveling and apologizing and begging Tweek to forgive him.

Yet it seems so uncharacteristic of him that he tossed and turned at the thought. _I could make this go back to normal._

However, normal wasn’t happy. Just left him feeling drained and increasingly empty, tired and sick. Physically sick. Craig remembers trying to eat for months and never being able to hold anything down. He remembers throwing up too. It was a shame filled thing. He knew he was lying and he felt like he couldn’t fathom deserving food. He’s tried to eat.. It’s not like he didn’t want to.

He’s gone down in so many sizes. He was already gangly and awkward but he’s knobbier and bonier now. His long sleeved clothes were falling off of him. The collar of his once snug shirt dips off to the side a bit, exposing jutting collarbones.

_How did no one notice?_

It’s time to be on the floor. So he takes in a painful deep breath, wipes his eyes with baggy long sleeves and makes way to stock.

*

There are too many kinds of canned spinach. Craig stares down blankly at the brand he’s filling the shelves with. Just one or two left before he’s to clock out. Just one or two…

“Hey.” Comes a greeting that Craig doesn’t look for the source off. He nips at the cut inside his mouth.

“The sale is buy one, get one 50% off on green tag items.” is his simple response. It’s all he’s been asked today. So it’s assumptive that’s the only social interaction of him that’s needed.

“What? Do you have that memorized? Fuck dude. I need to step up my game.”

Kenny McCormick.

Craig pushes one last can into place and grabs onto a higher shelf to help himself up.

“It’s simple.” It’s said nonchalantly. He and Kenny have worked together for as long as Craig could remember. If it wasn’t at Jmart it was in school. For some reason Kenny gravitated towards him for group affairs in classes that he and Tweek didn’t share. Kenny never striked him to be someone in AP classes. Yet he was. 

_You’re pretty smart and Kyle always teams with Wendy._ It’d be said muffled under the depths of oversized orange parka. Yet Craig understood it. Most people who knew Kenny could decipher what he was saying with ease.

There was also partnership when they were kids for field trips. The animals close up with a wide angle lens ordeal. There wasn’t much room to hang out outside of those odd agreements. They sometimes were in the same room, sharing the mutuality of having little sisters that were close. Ever since Tricia and Thomas moved to North Park there was no real reason for them to communicate, however. Craig doesn’t even talk to his own sister.

“Easy for you to say. You were always a walking textbook.” Kenny quips. Craig’s brows dip and he folds his arms, making way to walk by without any response. He’s not vastly intelligent or anything. Just likes to memorize useless scientific hypotheses and conspiracy theories. Everything else was for a grade. 

He doesn’t know what Kenny is talking about.

Craig is getting ready to walk to distance to the break room to clock out. He can hear the squeaking of shoes against linoleum flooring. Kenny is following him, yet he doesn’t protest. They probably get off at the same time.

So Craig opts to ignore him as he signs out, and makes way to his locker. Turning the dial this way and that to retrieve his phone and keys.

“So, I heard about what happened.” Kenny tries. Craig closes the door to his locker with a little more force than he intends. He barely knows Kenny, how many people did Tweek tell? 

“That’s great, Kenny.” Craig retorts and he shoves his phone into his pocket.

“No, it’s not. I mean, are you ok?”

Craig pauses, the hand he was lifting to open the exit and make an escape halting. Becoming almost stiff even in its shaking.

“I broke up with him.” There is a lump in his throat. An almost crack, too. Yet it’s probably not noticable.

“Go ask him that.” He can’t even bring himself to use Tweeks name. He wants to run from this. As much as he wonders why no one noticed, it doesn’t mean he wants the pity or the sympathy.

There is a look of lost in Craig’s eyes. They’re colored a sort of dulled hazel. Darker these days than ever before. He wants to move, yet he stands there in a daze, lips parting in confusion.

“He’s not the one that has looked like they were lifeless for the past few months.” 

It’s said and it’s done. And it’s the recognition and observation Craig didn’t expect, doesn’t appear to want yet silently screamed for. 

It throws him off guard. 

And it floods him with this raw fear that leaves him feeling like his skin has been pulled away and picked at.

“I um.” He blinks, trying to get himself to reality, to move.

“I have to go.” Yet he doesn’t right away. He can feel Kenny’s blue eyes staring into him, watching him like a hawk. And he’s frozen stuck still.

Somehow he finds himself walking away, running away internally.

God, why is he running?

  
  



End file.
